


back on solid ground

by VenatorNoctis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Comrades-compliant, M/M, Sweetness, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 18:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/pseuds/VenatorNoctis
Summary: They've been taking care of problems on their own since they got back to Lucis, but Ignis can't help worrying about Prompto."Well, thanks," Prompto says. "Here I thought you were going to have some kind of mission you needed help with."Ignis shakes his head. "The way I hear it, you've been doing plenty of those already.""Gotta keep busy, you know?" The fence creaks, the rail dipping ever so slightly as Prompto leans on it.





	back on solid ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



> So, sorry about the T rating; this sat unfinished for months while I failed to write a sex scene at the end. Eventually I decided that the comfort bits were the actual key part here and doing a fade to black was better than never posting, so here we are.

They all handle it in their own ways. The long night itself is of course less of an issue for Ignis than for the others; he took the step into darkness before the rest of Eos, and the warmth of the sun on his shoulders is already a fond but distant memory. He passes the time teaching himself how to use the senses he still has to cover for the one he gave up—listening harder for cues, training his memory to keep better maps of the space he moves through, adapting his fighting style to rely more on defense and patience than acrobatics. He isn't anywhere near good enough to challenge Ardyn right now, but by the time Noct returns he intends to be.

Gladio stops back by Lestallum occasionally, but spends much of his time out with the Hunters, scavenging useful supplies and scouting routes where more power lines could be laid. His skills as an outdoorsman serve him well, and Ignis suspects it does him good to spend most of his time with people who don't know him first as the Shield of the King. He vents his grief through anger, and his excursions give him plenty of daemons to fight. He's not all right yet, but it's not hard to believe he will be.

Prompto is... harder to get a read on. He's always been more dedicated than his fun-loving persona would suggest, but now it seems he never stops. Any time Ignis asks after him at the mission headquarters, Prompto is out somewhere: rescuing people stranded in a remote town, escorting a food shipment to one of the surviving outposts, leading a defense mission to push back the daemons encroaching on a supply warehouse. A far cry from the young man who used to encourage the rest of them to pull over and rest for the night, or stop at the nearest diner, or trade more serious pursuits for a game of King's Knight. It would be less worrying if he would stop by so Ignis could get a sense of how he's doing, but he never seems to slow down that long.

If Ignis asks him to come visit, he will, but he'll be on his guard, solicitous, trying to make sure he's doing everything he can to help _Ignis_ out, the way he has been since Altissia. He won't talk about his own troubles. This is going to take a more careful approach.

When the opportunity comes, Ignis recognizes it immediately. Instead of waiting in Lestallum, he leaves a message there for Prompto and takes the shuttle to Caem Harbor in advance. The harbor is faring well as an entry point for refugees from Accordo and even Niflheim, and Ignis spends some time getting acquainted with its layout and inhabitants while he waits for Prompto to get his message and follow him here.

It's "afternoon" by local consensus when Prompto arrives; Ignis hears the tread of boots on grating and raises his head just before Prompto says, "Hey, Iggy! Heard you needed me for something, what's up?"

Ignis banishes the dagger he'd been practicing with back to the Armiger (the Armiger still works, he tells himself whenever he has doubts; that's as good as a promise that Noct will come home). "Prompto! Glad you could make it. Yes, there's something here I'd like to show you. Here, this way."

He picks up his cane and isn't surprised when Prompto takes his other arm. He doesn't really need the assistance anymore, but the closeness is welcome. He's missed how easy it used to be for all of them, with Noct as their center.

He counts the steps on the way to the central elevator, so he knows where to turn on the staircase. When he reaches for the control panel for the elevator, it's exactly where he's expecting it to be.

"Barely slowing you down anymore, huh?" Prompto says.

"I'm learning to compensate," Ignis says. It hasn't been easy but he won't complain. He did what had to be done and paid what it would cost. He counts the elevator buttons by feel and presses the correct one.

When the elevator stops at their destination—a sheltered cove accessible to outside air but not easily accessible to any of the daemons in the area—the smell is unmistakable. The salt air of the seaside, the machine grease of the elevator, but much stronger is the musty stable scent of—

"Chocobos?" Prompto says incredulously. Ignis hasn't heard him sound so delighted about anything since—well, since he could see the accompanying smile.

"A few of the Glaives have been able to rescue wild specimens during their work to support Exineris," Ignis says. He can feel the impatience in Prompto's touch, the way he's holding himself back from bolting toward the birds. "I thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah," Prompto says softly. "I... I was afraid we were just gonna lose them. We're losing so much."

Ignis gently peels Prompto's hand off his arm. "Go say hello. I'm sure they'll enjoy the attention."

"Right." Metal jingles faintly as Prompto jogs toward the chocobo stable. Ignis follows more slowly, letting his cane tell him when he's reached the fence, stopping there with one gloved hand on the wooden beam. He can hear the sounds of Prompto befriending the chocobos, the soft huffs of laughter and the birds' inquisitive cooing. And then, of course: "Hey! That's my hair, stop it!"

"You seem to be getting along well," Ignis says.

Prompto laughs, and it's brief but real. "They're _chocobos_ , dude, of course we are. Hi. Hey, buddy. Hey, no, nothing in that pocket is a food."

Ignis leans on the fence and just listens for a few minutes, enjoying Prompto's obvious pleasure. It's frankly shocking just how much relief it brings him to have Prompto doing better, even if it's only for a little while. But this is the Prompto who thrived on their entire trip across the continent, and it's good to know he's still there under all the layers of hurt that have come after. 

"Man, I'm sorry," Prompto says after a few minutes. "You're the one who asked me out here, and now I'm ignoring you for these guys."

"Absolutely no apology necessary," Ignis reassures him. "I brought you here specifically because I know how you feel about chocobos."

"Well, thanks," Prompto says. "Here I thought you were going to have some kind of mission you needed help with."

Ignis shakes his head. "The way I hear it, you've been doing plenty of those already."

"Gotta keep busy, you know?" The fence creaks, the rail dipping ever so slightly as Prompto leans on it. "It's kinda how we've been ever since we left Insomnia. I ran into a little girl in Meldacio the other day who still remembered when me and Gladio got her kitten out of a tree."

Ignis smiles. He remembers that quite well himself, the little gray tabby clinging determinedly to the branch. "He boosted you up on his shoulders so you could reach. The kitten wasn't very grateful."

"Nah, the little jerk clawed the hell out of my arms on the way down," Prompto agrees. "He's all grown up now and working hard as a mouser in the Meldacio food storehouse. She was so proud that he was helping everyone. Amazing how the little things turn out to matter, you know?"

"It certainly is." Ignis' heart feels lighter and warmer than it has in ages. 

"So... I have to keep helping, basically." And just like that they get to the meat of the issue; he should have known Prompto would recognize what needed to be discussed without much encouragement. "There's so much that people need help with these days."

"And yet you need to take care of yourself, as well," Ignis says. "From the stories I've heard, I'm starting to wonder when you find time to sleep."

He says it lightly, like a joke, but Prompto answers, "Eh, I don't need much sleep. Never have."

"Prompto." Ignis frowns in his direction. "Please tell me you're not pushing yourself too hard."

Prompto laughs, but it's an awkward, deflecting sound, nothing like the real delight of meeting the chocobos. "I'm literally a genetically engineered super soldier, Iggy. There's basically two ways you can go with that. You can be Captain Insomnia, or you can be a supervillain. I know what I wanna be."

"Ah." He supposes it shouldn't come as a surprise that Prompto is still wrestling with that. They did what they could to reassure him when he told them, of course, but everything about the trip through Zegnautus Keep was frantic and terrible, a stressful race toward the Crystal and the confrontation with Ardyn that solved nothing. "And does Captain Insomnia not have any friends who worry about him?"

"Jeez, Iggy, I _know_ you were paying attention when I used to tell Noct about him," Prompto says. Gentle. Teasing. He and Noct were fifteen then, newly friends, and when Noct would invite Prompto over he seemed like a whirlwind of energy, constant noise and movement that Noct soaked up as if it were sunlight.

"Forgive me," Ignis says. "I don't know how I could have failed to remember something so important." He reaches out and Prompto takes his hand, squeezing gently. "You might worry about which of those options you'll take, but I promise you nobody else does. You're already a hero to plenty of people." He laces their fingers together. "Me included."

"Wow, hey, come on, you can't just say stuff like that to a guy, you gotta like, give a warning first so I can brace for impact." He pulls Ignis' hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "And if I'm any kind of hero it's your fault. Learned most of what I know about taking care of people from you, you know."

Ignis ducks his head. "I see what you mean. That sort of directness is a bit difficult to sit still for."

"So there," Prompto says, and Ignis would swear he can hear the smile.

They stand there together in companionable silence for a few minutes, still holding on. One of the chocobos ambles over, feet making _pash, pash_ sounds on the sandy ground, and coos at them hopefully until Prompto is conned into scratching its ruff. It's a comfort and—Ignis would like to think—a calm they haven't had since before they ever left Lucis.

Eventually Prompto heaves a contented sigh. "Yeah, okay. I guess I can take a few hours off. Keeps a guy from going power-mad, right?"

"Precisely," Ignis says. Prompto tugs his hand free, moving, but reaches for Ignis again once he's ducked through the fence. "Being a defender of justice is hungry work. When was the last time someone made you dinner?"

"I don't want to impose," Prompto starts, but a severely raised eyebrow is all it takes to stop that nonsense in its tracks. "I mean, it's been a while and if you're offering that'd be great. I still remember how to set the table."

"I'm sure I can find some way to make you useful," Ignis promises.

They make their way back to the shuttle and only have to wait half an hour for the one departing for Lestallum. On the trip, they manage some almost-comfortable small talk, and don't dwell for too long on what they've lost or what they're struggling to hold onto. Prompto leans against Ignis' shoulder and the contact is almost shockingly welcome. There are good reasons for them to have split up, of course, but that doesn't make it any easier.

In Lestallum they join the queue outside the Hunters' headquarters, waiting for a share in whatever the Hunters have brought down in the last few days. Someone recognizes them and tries to argue they should go to the front of the line, which always makes Ignis faintly uncomfortable but can be hard to refuse. Prompto, bless him, retorts that the one who really should go first is someone standing right behind them, who's a widower with two young children to take care of. Or maybe the woman two spots behind him, who lost an arm in a daemon attack and has been struggling to keep working. Everyone has a history; everyone has something they've survived, something they've lost, and Prompto knows so many of them.

They do not, thank goodness, have to go to the front of the queue.

When their turn comes, and not before, they accept their share—a portion of cockatrice breast, plenty for the two of them and honestly possibly more than they deserve, from the weight of the parcel in Ignis' hand. But it's not worth arguing over, when they could be going home and getting dinner started instead.

Ignis has a ground-floor apartment in one of the buildings that's been converted into housing for the Hunters and Glaives now operating out of Lestallum. He assumes the one Prompto has is much the same: a room with a small selection of furniture, a kitchenette along one side, and a bathroom tucked back in one corner. "If the colors in here are atrocious," he says as he unlocks the door, "please don't tell me."

He remembers to reach for the light switch after only a second of delay, and he can sense light on his right side just enough to know that it worked. Beside him, Prompto says, "Nah, not atrocious at all! A little brighter than I'd expect from you, but hey, it's Lestallum."

"Consider me reassured," Ignis says with a smile. He leaves his cane propped in the corner by the door, where it belongs, then turns and crosses the room to the little kitchenette. 

Prompto follows him, steps plainly audible on the bare floor. "What can I do to help?"

"You could start the rice, if you'd like," Ignis says. That should be straightforward enough. "It's in the cabinet directly above the rice cooker." 

"Sure thing." The click of the cabinet latch, the thump of the bag on the counter, the rattle of rice grains in the bowl. "Tap water okay?"

"Just fine." The drawer by Ignis' right hand holds his kitchen knife, and he retrieves it. "One request, if I may."

"Shoot," Prompto says.

"Be careful to put everything back where you found it, please. It's much easier to manage a kitchen sightless if I know where everything is."

"You got it," Prompto says almost too gently. But he doesn't dwell—possibly Ignis isn't hiding his discomfort as well as he could—and after the rice cooker beeps to start its cycle, what Prompto says is simply, "So, what's next? What are we making here, anyway?"

What they are making is a dish traditionally prepared with daggerquill, but substitutions must be made for almost everything these days, and this isn't a tricky one. Ignis takes point, slicing meat and heating oil in the pan, and he calls on Prompto to sort through his carefully preserved jars of spices for the ones he needs tonight. He explains what he's doing as he goes—not that he expects Prompto to develop a passion for cooking, but it provides a comfortable sense of normalcy that he thinks both of them could use.

By the time the rice cooker has finished its cycle, they have peppery poached not-daggerquill to spoon over it, the savory scent filling the small apartment. "Man, have I missed this," Prompto says as he does in fact set the table.

"Really?" Ignis can't help a little teasing. "No longer pining after Iris' cooking instead?"

"Oh come on, that was _never_ what I meant and you know it," Prompto says. He comes closer and Ignis holds out a bowl for him. "Though, seriously, if you haven't tried her little moogle cake things, you're missing out."

"I'll be sure to ask her about them next time I run into her," Ignis says. He pays close attention to the way he moves, the relative positions of bowl and rice cooker and then saute pan, and serves himself dinner. Prompto starts to make a noise that might be an offer of assistance but stops himself; Ignis appreciates both the desire to help and the recognition that he doesn't need it.

The meal is one of the best ones Ignis can remember since things went wrong in Altissia. The food is imperfect, but still good, and sharing it with friendly company makes it an indulgence too rare and precious to pass up. Prompto tells the stories of some of the refugees he's helped since their return to the Lucian continent, and Ignis updates him on the projects some of their friends have undertaken, and the moments of silence in between are comfortable.

Afterward, Prompto clears the table and insists on doing the dishes—"The guy who does the cooking does _not_ also do the washing up, Iggy, come on"—while Ignis keeps him company. It isn't normal exactly, but nothing is anymore, and likely won't be until Noct returns. But it's reassuring, this sense of routine, of someone to depend on and to do things for.

"So," Prompto says when he shuts the water off. "Thanks. I didn't know how much I needed a break."

Ignis reaches for him, puts a hand on his arm. "I hope you're not rushing off so soon."

He can feel the way Prompto's weight shifts, almost but not quite moving toward him. "I don't have to. You have something else in mind?"

"I do." He tugs gently and Prompto takes the step closer, so Ignis can feel his nearness. "I think you can probably guess."

"Yeah," Prompto breathes. "I probably can." His hand settles warm at Ignis' waist and a moment later his lips press against Ignis', chapped and rough but gentle and so very welcome. It's the first time anyone has kissed Ignis since before they left Altissia, and Gladio's desperate, restrained grief then was a long way from Prompto's relaxed comfort now. Ignis cups Prompto's face in one hand to make sure he doesn't go anywhere and parts his lips to deepen the kiss. They've all needed more kindness than they've made time for since they got back to Lucis, haven't they?

Prompto moans softly against his mouth, a sound of reassurance as much as need, pressing closer to him so Ignis can feel his wiry strength. They're both leaning into each other, as if there's a gravitational pull between them now that they've gotten this close. It's dizzying in the best way; for all that he's been determined to care for Prompto, he hasn't noticed how badly he missed this, too.

After a few minutes of languid, wonderful kisses, Prompto pulls back just slightly, still a warm weight against Ignis' chest. "So.... I could spend the night. If you want."

Ignis smiles. "I do want." There's a blossoming light and heat in his chest, a buoyancy that feels like more of a blessing than anything the gods have offered. "Here. Let's go to bed."

The Dawn might be a long way off yet, but this is the warmth that will see them safely there.


End file.
